


We'll Conspire As We Dream

by chewysugar



Series: Winter Wonderland [3]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV), Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Boys Kissing, Christmas, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Fluff, Kissing, Love, M/M, Making Out, Shirtless, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:08:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21923446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chewysugar/pseuds/chewysugar
Summary: Henry lets Jack into his bedroom and learns a bit more about him.
Relationships: Jack Frost (Guardians of Childhood)/Henry Mills (Once Upon a Time)
Series: Winter Wonderland [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1572364
Comments: 4
Kudos: 24





	We'll Conspire As We Dream

**Author's Note:**

> Contains a scene where consent is respected.

Having convinced himself quite thoroughly that he’d invented Jack, Henry could only stare in mute astonishment. Cool air caressed his face, and he was in danger of toppling completely out of the window, but he still couldn’t help himself. 

“Henry?” Jack cocked his head to the side. “Are you alright?”

Still stricken, Henry pressed his hands to either side of Jack’s face. The other boy’s big blue eyes went wide with astonishment. A slight scrape of stubble scratched at Henry’s palms—just how much older was Jack, anyway? His skin still had the cold rush feeling, not unpleasant at all but still starkly noticeable, like the rumor of winter over the surface of some smooth stone.

“You’re real,” he breathed, his thumb brushing over Jack’s bottom lip. To say that he felt exactly like a child in Christmas morning would have been trite, and also inaccurate—because he was happier. In his joy he nearly flew out of the window and toppled Jack backwards. Thankfully, he managed to get a grip on himself enough to stand back and silently gesture for Jack to follow him inside. 

“Real?” Jack repeated. He had to stoop rather a lot to avoid hitting the top of his head on the window frame. “I know that I had to cut and run sooner than either of us would have preferred, but why wouldn’t I be real?” 

“Nobody else saw you!” Henry slid the window shut, and turned to face his midnight visitor. “My Mom...my mother...you were right in front of them and they thought I was alone.” 

Jack screwed up his face, and delicately riddled with a Funko figurine on Henry’s bookshelf. “You have two mothers? How extraordinary.” 

“Hey, you’re the one who pull the invisibility act! Kind of makes me seem ordinary by comparison.” 

“You’re not ordinary, Henry.” Jack glanced at him. Something in his gaze made Henry feel as if he were being put under x-ray. “At least I don’t think you are.” 

With a sigh, Henry sank onto the edge of his bed. “That’s very sweet of you to say, but I'm serious here. You can make yourself unseen, you can turn into snowflakes—

“And change the weather.”

“—and change the weather. Don’t take this the wrong way but just who the hell are you?” 

He chuckled, and crossed the room. “I told you, Henry. I’m Jack Frost.”

Henry sighed. “Of course you are.” And of course he’d lose his heart to a fairy tale being. At the thought, his pulse began to race. He’d certainly fallen under Jack’s spell quickly. What if, in addition to all his wintry miracles, Jack could also make someone fall in love with him?

Jack crouched. “Look at me, Henry.” 

He did, and felt lost to the pull of those eyes—so filled with mirth and loss. What had happened to him? Why had he even come to Storybrooke. And...

“Why did you find me, Jack? Out of everyone at the Ice Festival, why me?” 

Jack stared with such intensity that it nearly sent Henry’s brain reeling. He waited on tenterhooks, prepared for something—some shocking revelation. But when Jack spoke, all he said was, “Because you bewitched me.” 

“That’s it!?” Henry stood suddenly. “Bewitched? What is that supposed to mean? Am I part siren or something?” 

Jack got to his feet. “Nothing like that, Henry. How can anyone say why the think and feel what they do? I was going to descend on Storybrooke and make my way somewhere else, but then...well, I saw you and I wanted to get to know you better.” 

Henry huffed. “But why’d you have to turn invisible? I thought I’d lost my mind or something, and—“

Taking him completely by surprise, Jack put his hands over Henry’s shoulders. “I’m sorry, Henry. Really. I didn’t think about the consequences...it’s kind of a problem of mine.” He sighed. “It’s just...well, like I said, I couldn’t help myself. I’ve never really felt something so strong, and I didn’t want anyone to...y’know, interrupt us.” His face flushed a little, the blood stark and shocking on his snowy white skin. 

Henry turned, not leaving the cage of Jack’s embrace. Tilting his chin, he said softly, “You really feel that way about me?”

Jack smiled softly. “I do. Lucky me I took a shot in the dark and it turned out to be a bullseye. At least I hope it did...otherwise that little scene by the bathroom window would be really awkward." He rubbed the back of his head. 

"The bathroom window..." Henry thought back--the thick frost that had appeared over the glass on the other side of the window. His lips parted, and his face burned with blistering heat. "Th-that was you! You watched me in the shower?"

Jack winced. "I guess it wasn't exactly the right thing to do, but--

Henry laughed. "I'll try not to be offended."

"Really? Then I'll take that apology back." He cupped Henry's face in his hands, and stared with those gleaming blue eyes of his.

The sensation from the gazebo returned full force—a sudden feeling of being propelled by a massive blast of air. It left Henry dizzy, made his heart ache unbearably, and pulled at something below his gut. A tremor ran through his hand as he raised it and brushed the strands of Jack’s icy hair off his forehead. He remembered what he’d thought back at the Ice Festival—more. Struck by ravenous hunger he pressed his lips against Jack’s. It felt like the first morsel of nourishment after long starvation—more warming and hopeful than spring’s gentle zephyrs following the bleakest winter. Jack wrapped his arms around Henry, pulling their bodies closer together. Heat from the mortal insinuated itself with the cool skin of the immortal bringer of winter. 

Through gasps of air and stolen swipes of breath, they both ended up falling over the edge of the mattress. Jack’s body was lithe as a lynx’s over Henry’s. His hips worked in a sensual rhythm, the layer of clothing separating bare skin almost unbearable. 

_More_ , Henry thought again. _Give me more_. His hands snaked under Jack’s sweater. The contact was enough that Henry could swear he felt steam. Even though Jack’s skin was cold as midnight in December, he couldn’t find it repellent. 

Jack let him peel the sweater over his head. It fell to the floor like a flake of snow, and Henry found himself looking up at the most exquisite sight he’d ever seen. Braced on both arms, Jack stared into Henry’s eyes. His lips, once so pale as if touched by death itself, were flush with the rosy pink of passion. 

With aching slowness, Jack pressed closer. Fractals burst behind Henry’s eyes. Fire raced through his body so fast that it made his skin prickle. Yet even amid the all-consuming need, he found one small sense of rationality. 

As much as he wanted this—as much as he wanted Jack to pull the soft fabric of his pajamas off and see him as he really was—he realized that he wasn’t actually ready. Not quite for this, at least. He’d never been with anyone before, and as much as the storm between them was rife with rolling clouds of passion, Henry found he was actually quite scared of what could happen next. 

Something of his trepidation must of shown on his face. Jack’s expression softened, and he sat up. 

“Too fast, huh?”

Henry sighed, and looked away. “I’m sorry, Jack. It’s just—

“Hey now, what on earth do you have to say sorry about, huh? If you’re not ready, then you aren’t ready.” That devilish grin spread across his face. He stretched out on the covers next to Henry, all confident charm and devastating beauty. He held an arm out, and Henry quickly took the invitation—he’d have to have truly been insane not to. 

“Besides,” Jack continued, “it’s not fun unless you’re one hundred per cent willing.”

Henry chuckled, curling as close to Jack’s body as he could. “Where did you come from, huh? Most guys wouldn’t be able to resist.”

“Not from around here, that’s for damn sure.” He gestured with one long-fingered hand. A flutter of snowflakes spiraled over their heads, coalescing into a sort of sphere. Light shone from within. Henry stared, and saw images appear in the center of the glow. He saw a boy—much like Jack but with mousy brown hair—and a beautiful little girl, playing together. The boy and girl were playing over a frozen lake. Henry saw fractures form in the surface of the ice—saw the boy reach for the girl with a long staff. When the boy fell through, Henry gasped, and the Jack next to him rested his chin on Henry’s head. 

Moonlight bathed over the boy’s body as it floated in darkness…then his hair turned the same snowy silver as Jack’s own. More images—of Jack flying over water which froze, of him blowing on green leaves and coating them with frost.

Jack heaved a sigh, and the illusion disappeared. The snow fell towards the bed, but vanished before it could touch either of them. 

“Your run of the mill sob story,” Jack said. “And I didn’t even get to the heart of darkness, so to speak.”

Emotion threatened to choke Henry’s throat. He swallowed the lump and said, in feigned glibness: “Who’s that? The Boogeyman?”

“As a matter of fact, it was.”

“I’m impressed.”

“That’s good for my ego.”

Henry ran a finger over the lines in Jack’s abdomen. “So, if you’re really the spirit of winter—

“Guardian,” Jack corrected. “And I’m not so much wintery as I am fun. But go on.”

“Does that mean…does that mean you have to move on?” Winter never lingered, after all. Henry wasn’t naive enough to think that Jack Frost, of all beings, would remain in Storybrooke just because he wanted him to. 

Jack chuckled. “Don’t put the horse before the cart, Henry.” Jack kissed his forehead. “It’s only December, after all. And the forecast is calling for an unseasonably long winter in this part of the country.”

Henry smiled softly. “Does that mean…you can stay?”

Jack nodded. “It does. But I can’t be seen by anyone other than you. There’s powerful people in this town, and they don’t seem to take so kindly to strangers.”

“So its a secret tryst then? I can do that. We’ll call it Operation Romeo.”

Jack laughed, rolled over, and kissed Henry. “You really are incredible, you know that?”

At that moment, Henry felt that he truly was. 

\--

Regina awoke a little after seven the next morning--late for her. With a stretch and a sigh that made her really feel her age, she rose, wrapped a housecoat around herself, and left her extravagant bedroom to put the coffee on. Henry would be sleep until eleven, probably, now that he was on holidays from school. No matter. He'd earned the right to rest.

Deciding that today would be as good a day as any to get some paperwork down, she headed down the hallway with the same air as a lioness ready to hunt her kill. It was at that moment that she heard the most extraordinary sound from Henry's bedroom.

A giggle.

Odd. Henry had been more than willing to spend the first several days of vacation getting his customary fourteen hours. This was ungodly early for him.

Frowning, Regina shrugged, and continued down the staircase. Her hand ghosted over streams of green garland, wrapped around the banister like a festive boa constrictor. She'd decorated to the nines, as she had done every Christmas since the curse had been lifted. Before that she'd been content to ignore the merriment. It seemed like a lifetime ago, and the only remnant from that time was her protectiveness of her son.

Pale light filtered through the pulled curtains. Entering the kitchen, Regina waved her hand to part the blinds over the windows. She stood stock still at the sight greeting her. Thick, fat flakes of snow fell from a sky covered by thin, wispy clouds. A pale sun gleamed in a pink sky, causing the hoarfrost on the trees branches, garden decorations, pavement and shrubs to sparkle. It seemed as if the spirit of winter itself had taken Storybrooke, put it inside a snow globe, and shaken it vigorously.

Not even in the Enchanted Forest had she seen something so breathtaking.

From far above, she heard Henry give a whoop of laughter.

Regina smiled, in the way only a mother pleased with the delight of a child could. He'd never shown much affection for it before, but Henry seemed to have rediscovered a love for the winter. Shaking her head, she attended to the task at hand--shaking off her sleepiness with a cup of coffee.

With her back to the window, she failed to take notice of the figure whose form briefly appeared on the other side of the glass. Jack Frost watched as the Once and Former Evil Queen filled her French press. He grinned to himself, before disappearing in a flurry of flakes, alighting up the side of the house and settling back into the warmth of Henry's bedroom.

Operation Romeo was in full swing--and there were many, many weeks left for it to play out.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
